Another Lifetime
by cosmicpants
Summary: He's alone in the world, cursing the country which was once his and even once, he was. What if the very core of your soul and personality has been stripped away, oh beautiful, beautiful, France? -Francis Bonnefoy & Honda Kiku. G. &  boy  OC. Not BL.


The ground shakes as the train passes by, metal hitting metal, screeching to a stop to allow people to come in. Graffiti, graffiti everywhere, painted in the brick walls. The nauseous smell of smoke and sweat could be sensed by the buzzing people; whether it be employees to janitors to business men. And they only mean one thing- another week has started.

It is cold. The floor is cold as it can be. Could it be possible that last night it rained? He didn't know since he slept too early.

Silence as the train starts once again and disappears in a tunnel. And he sighs in exasperation. He has counted, 24 trains, ever since he sat there doing nothing but to stare and to listen to his tunes in an mp3 player.

'You're too poor', they said, rejecting his pleas to get a job. 'No impressive educational background'; they all spoke of false conclusions, 'You're too dirty for this job'; he cannot argue. Because he really was...so...ugh.

Francis was losing hope. So he'd rather watch trains pass by mindlessly, screeching, always there but will always go away. 'Pity, you have such a great face', they say, even if he's applying to become a model or some sort.

Just to eat. Just to pay his rent, at least.

At his side is a big blue bag which he carries wherever he goes (both the train station and his small apartment room). Inside he could remember placing a pair of black pants, 4 tops, 2 sweaters, his low-class cell phone, a remote control, some gel for his hair and a toothbrush (he forgot where the hell his toothpaste went and thus too lazy to buy anymore).

Golden blonde wearing a baggy hoodie, zipped up into his neck; leather shoes that has one opened like an alligator mouth, an unshaved face and sharp blue eyes.

He wonders why he can't get any money and people don't seem to have a plan to give him some, even if he works his ass off for just a penny. Living in Paris, he concludes, is tough. He hates it. Not the place, but his compatibility with it.

He is, after all, France once.

Another train passes, it is empty, so it can store so much more people who have lined up in front. And they have their LIFE, which Francis doesn't have. They are working, working and striving to earn money for themselves and for the people they love, but Francis does not. In the first place he does not have a job and looking for one would mean another rejection.

And who in the world would want that?

Wars have been fought and blood has been spilt. It's been a while. He could remember those bastards, and at the same time, his friends. He doesn't age, he can't die, which is the worst part. He has to live with this kind of life without the help of his beloved country.

They replaced him. But forgot to strip off his immortality. The world continues to live in the year 2011.

...Forgotten battle cries and unmistakable desires. Wasted lifetimes and unreasonable leaders.

"Hey,"

Francis looks up at the source of a soft, low voice, and his sight adjust to the mysterious silhouette of a small, shy-looking boy.

You...are...

"Ah! Sorry for rudely intruding your personal space. I was just wondering why you're making such a solemn face in a place like this." The boy is sporting an Asian get-up, with those dark blue robes and big ribbon-like ties, much to his surprise-he could only think of one person who he has seen wearing that, but he can't quite remember who...

"No, it's okay!" Francis was quick to put on a reassuring smile, hoping to shoo the boy away to not broaden the awkwardness between them. But smiling wasn't such a great idea. Instead, the boy sits down in front of him, pouting, and then bowing lowly; his black hair covering his pale white face gracefully.

Francis blinks in wonder...or is it intrigue?

"Heavens, I am so sorry." The boy then rises up and looks directly at Francis' eyes, smiling. "It's just that I know you from somewhere but I can't recall, mister."

The latter slowly nods. He could relate to this strange person.

"But I brought with me this business card of my father's. He owns an advertising company. With y-your height and attractive face, maybe you could be of help?" The boy offers a card from his pocket, offering it to Francis with a shy smile. "Uh, by the way, my name is Kazuya Honda."

"Aaaah, I see. I'll think about it." The very first thing he wants to ask is- "How about the pay?"

"It's no problem! The pay is high and it doesn't have any malicious fees. The number in the business card, if you call them, they'll answer all of your questions and you could proceed to contract signing as soon as possible."

The blonde looks at the car in his hands in happiness, and nods in approval because for the first time in a long time,

He was not rejected.

'I want to be France', 'I want to live with France', 'I want to live as France'; these pleas that were roughly ignored.

"My name is Francis Bonnefoy. It's amazing that an Asian such as yourself speaks French fluently. No offense though!"

"Oh, yes! Thank you. I learned through my father along with Norwegian, Italian, Mexican and lots more. He said that language is the key to many friends. And I want friends."

"I agree. Learning different languages will open new relationships and friendships."

And then awkward silence. They looked at each other. Kazuya looked as if he's only 16 or so- is he even allowed to loiter in a place such as this? And to do errands for his father, even? "I see that your father allows you to go around Paris. Where were you going before you talked to me, boy?"

"Eh. I was planning to find capable-looking people in the trains but I found you so I have an excuse to not go in anymo-"

"Well you're lucky! A boy like you shouldn't go in there especially on a Monday. And especially that you look like a foreigner in flashy robes. You'd get robbed or worse, kidnapped."

Kazuya shivered, his mouth opening a little, a little teary-eyed, and it was just so adorable. "I-I thank you so much! It's good I saw what I was looking for before I place myself in unknown harm-!"

He looks like...

"Yeah. We're lucky, aren't we?"

"Indeed! I'm so glad that my father and I decided to tour Europe. He then fell in love with this country and concluded to stay here permanently. Honestly, Japan has become such a crowded place. Though Paris is crowded too...it's nice to discover new things and cultures."

Francis grinned and then stared down at the card yet again, marveling that he has been offered a job. But then something familiar caught his eyes which made him gasp in...in...

"Your father's name is Kiku Honda?" It didn't make any sense.

"Y-Yes. My father's name is indeed Kiku Honda. He's young and absolutely wonderful."

This kid...he compliments and talks endlessly about his amazing father. His father that Francis strangely knows. But it didn't make any sense at all. Kiku has a son, and exactly looks like him? Nation people weren't allowed to have children, except for colonies and the like. And even now, Francis COULD have a child-if he had money.

But this is too much to think about in just one Monday morning.

"Say, Kazuya, could you introduce to me your father? It seems that he really is a wonderful person. I want to meet him."

Suddenly the latter's eyes and face lit up, as if anticipating for this moment where he could boast of his oh-so-wonderful dad. "I-It'll be my honor to do so, Mister!" kazuya then stood up excitedly, pulling Francis' wrist; he was strong- and the other just chuckled, grabbing his bag, and let Kazuya drag him out of that dinghy train station.

"It's not far from here, my father's office. It's in that tall building, you see?" Kazuya pointed at a building made of grays of metal and glass, about 18 floors tall, and Francis was just blown away by it all. "Aren't they amazing? My father and his building! He worked very hard for it, mister."

Francis is dumbfounded.

And then they arrive, Kazuya pulling Francis to the elevator, pressing the '10' button. They were going. Francis is going to see Kiku, a nation person such as himself (once), and he could ask about Kazuya and Japan and Asia and his beloved France and Paris and Arthur (Antonio, Lovino, Veneciano, Ludwig, Gilbert, Europeeuropeeurope) and his lovely, wonderful, blessing of a child Matthew (once) and that weirdo Alfred and everyone and just...the world. As a whole.

"My father would love to see you. He's lacking of advertisers. You will be very helpful in our company."

They stand now in front of a big door, a golden plate beside it pasted on the wall, that has the name 'Sir Kiku Honda' engraved on it. For a moment, he loathed this man- this man who was once a boy, albeit being so powerful and strong back in the 1940's, he is still such a child. And now, his son is no less astonishing.

"Father, I brought with me a very important person. I'd like you to meet him. Can we come in if you are not busy?"

"Sure, you can enter now, Kazuya."

The door opens.

Francis shivered at the voice. It has not changed a bit at all and-

Gasp. Another gasp. Francis couldn't believe his eyes. It really is Kiku. Except, he has not aged at all. Wearing a black business attire, Kiku stood up with a big smile, running towards Francis and enveloping him in an embrace. The blonde man is dumbfounded and out of words to say, so he just hugged the other as well, happiness flooding his heart and relief painting his features.

A nation person such as him is alive.

"Francis-san! Francis-san, it really is you! Francis-san!" Kiku couldn't let go as well, completely forgetting Kazuya, who is now looking up at them strangely. "I thought that I would never get to see you again and the others..."

"Kiku, y-you're alive? And what do you mean by the others? Are they here?"

Breaking the embrace, Kiku wiped his tears, "No, Francis-san. They are all in their countries. But we are all living normally. Like me, who is now a company founder and president. And you? Why are you here?" Kiku bent down and patted Kazuya's head, "Kazuya, this is my long lost friend, Francis. He is a good man."

"Y-Yes, father. I know of that well. Father, I'm confused. Wh-What living normally do you say..?" Kazuya's French begins to falter at the shock, and he let go of Francis' hand to shake Kiku's arm restlessly, "I don't remember you telling me this...about the 'others', I mean. What does that mean?"

Kiku sighed with a smile and glanced at Francis, who was obviously admiring Kazuya, petting the boy's head fondly. The boy looked down in shame; he was so small, and he didn't know that this mister and his father knew each other.

Also, because this 'mister' was once 'the' France.

"You see, Kazuya," Kiku started, looking at Francis as well, "We were told that we were getting replaced by new beings as the nation people. We didn't have a choice..." His voice faltered slightly, and continued, "We were given the condition and 'benefit' to stay immortal, still. So I did stay immortal. As time passed by, I met a lot of people like me who cannot die; those whose hearts are still attached to their countries like Alfred and many other people. They told me that there weren't replacements in the first place. The world is not that chaotic, they say; our past leaders say. So we were not needed anymore."

Kiku looked up at Francis whose eyes were as wide as plates, contemplating whether to comfort him or just to sympathize with his shock (after all, he also had the same dumbfounded expression when he heard these things from Ivan). He continued, "But the world is not a better place just because there is no great war between nations. There are murderers, robbers, rapists...a lot of them. I am not boasting that we deserved to stay as our countries' representatives, but their reasons were absolutely wrong. So Kazuya, you have to understand. It's hard to be human."

Francis gulped roughly, his hands trembling with the things he has heard.

'We don't need a representative anymore. You will become Francis Bonnefoy, not France.' It was as if a sharp blade pierced through his heart and when they took it off, the identity of France came along with it. It was a horrid day. The clouds were blocking the sun light he adored and yearned for. Everything back then was so complicated that his mind went berserk all of a sudden.

He didn't understand why he was the only one who would be placed in a 'human life' situation, when countries (people) like that bastard Arthur and that macho potato Ludwig could have been punished more than him.

But this? He IS France.

...and Francis Bonnefoy.

"Francis-san," Kiku smiled sweetly, hugging his son tightly and whispering something in his ear, and Kazuya goes away with a bow; "Francis-san. Kazuya is a human."

Snapping out of his thoughts, Francis couldn't believe what he's hearing.

Kazuya is human.

"Where did you get him, anyway?"

It was all just so shocking and frustrating and overwhelming and...immortality and affairs and alliances and broken guns and colonies, children, running, smiles, never knowing what bloodshed is and humiliation, bulletsbulletsbullets across the sky, defeat, malice, selfishness, spoils and glorious, glorious land; and of anthems, all so fleeting and ugly and dirty but that flag rises so beautifully with the sun shining brightly and-

"I adopted him."

Francis breathed deeply. "Oh, heavens."

Kiku's eyes tears up and he just wiped them off with the back of his hand and whispered with a sad smile, "He will die one day and I will not."

Silence.

"When my emperor said those things to me, I couldn't utter even one word. He is my leader and I followed him. Slowly, Japan felt so distant from my grasp, as if I am not Japan. It depressed me to no limits and I tried to kill myself just as my soldiers have done in the wars, but I did not have a reason. So I was looking for a reason to live, and this is when I saw Kazuya; not only did he resemble me in many ways, he reminded me of the Kiku back then who hated blood and war and hate itself. I learned to love my people more and thus I understood."

"And this boy, he does know you will not die that easily?"

"-Yes."

"Well he's a wonderful kid and you raised him well. He found me."

"Father! Can I come in now?"

Kiku and Francis looked at each other and laughed, the smaller man shouting back, "Yes, you can."

As Kazuya runs to Kiku with open arms, he wonders, now that he doesn't know what to live for, will he ever find that certain thing or someone that would be worth fighting for? For years he has remained as isolated from the world as a bug under a big rock, a bug who doesn't have any money to spend at that. Meals were scarce and happiness was even rare.

But now he understood.

"Did you know? Alfred-san works for the government! He just loves his president so much. And then..."

Arthur owns his own flower shop in London near the bay, admiring lovers as they passed. The roses were his only friends but he'd always have a phone call from Matthew, a zoo-keeper in Vancouver, complaining about unreasonable pays and of hiding polar bears. Toris and Feliks moved somewhere in America and legalized their love for each other- naturally Ivan would be there, and he caused a ruckus which he denied of starting. Veneciano became a beggar but then Ludwig looked for him; he was the first one to know about not being replaced and the others having the same fate, and the both of them accomplished their dream of moving to a Southern island in Asia. Yao, he became the chef he longed to be and always helped Lee with his martial arts students.

And for the first time in a long time, Francis felt happy.

"Kazuya," Kiku called, patting the boy's head, and Kazuya can't be any happier at what his father told- "Hand me the papers already. I'll hire Francis-san."

I hope you liked Kazuya, my (_adorable_) OC. He's some sweet and thoughtful kid who really loves his father (or at least, his father image). I thought that he's a really loving boy. I want him to be, especially because this story needed some lightening up because of Francis' problems and dilemmas! I wanted him to be a solution to Francis' trials, and thus, we go to Kiku. If you take a look at the story, obviously, the nation people have been stripped off their roles as...nation people. I thought that 'what if they had the freedom of doing what they want and experiencing their people's true lives?' Lol I hope it showed... q

Also, for me, Kiku would act like Kazuya if he had not experienced the horrors and hardships of being a country.

Btw this is my first time experimenting with Francis' character. I had a very hard time thinking about what he might think. After all, he's not the character I prioritize in APH- but a certain fanart by an unknown artist changed my mind about him. Ended up making a fic of, _and _for him. Lol.

This is also my first time posting in . I wish you liked my first submission. :'D

A-And forgive me if there were any errors in grammar or fail!typos whatsoever. :|!

-I want to make a sequel. If I do, I'll make Arthur, Alfred and Matthew's lives as _not_ nation people.


End file.
